


to live gently on this earth

by clysmicthoughts (phosophenes)



Series: crossroads at rhapsody [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bittersweet, Commander Armin Arlert, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Minor Violence, Not Actually Unrequited Love, One Night Stands, Post-Canon, READ BEGINNING NOTES FOR TRIGGER WARNINGS, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan Manga Spoilers, Suicidal Thoughts, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, hobo man bun eren cuz thats hot, just a lot of unresolved tension ok?, mikasa is armin and eren's pillar during these trying times and needs to be paid more, slight jealousy, woohoo thats my boy!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:22:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28463058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phosophenes/pseuds/clysmicthoughts
Summary: "I wonder…” Eren pauses, looking up at Armin. “I wonder if things would’ve been different, had we been more honest with ourselves.”Armin wonders that too. “It’s not a good time to dwell upon wonderings. There never is.”Or: Three years after the rumbling, Armin decides to take a long-due visit to the one and only Eren Jaeger.
Relationships: Armin Arlert/Eren Yeager, Jean Kirstein & Eren Yeager, Mikasa Ackerman & Armin Arlert, Mikasa Ackerman & Armin Arlert & Eren Yeager, Mikasa Ackerman & Eren Yeager, background Mikasa Ackerman/Jean Kirstein - Relationship
Series: crossroads at rhapsody [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2084862
Comments: 34
Kudos: 229





	to live gently on this earth

**Author's Note:**

> New fandom who dis?
> 
> Haha ANYWAYS this is my first fic for aot and I couldn't help write it after binging through the entire show and manga because WOW Hajime Isayama is an absolute genius and has put me on a rollercoaster of emotions I do not want to get out of. 
> 
> Some things to be mindful of:
> 
> -There are some slightly graphic (not really bloody or gory, just a bit detailed) content about suic*de attempts. It starts at "Sometimes, Armin pulled...." and ends at "....if it were all up to him, of course."  
> -Secondly, this story is a bit emotionally heavy, considering the time frame and past events taken into account. Beware.
> 
> That's all it for me! Thanks for clicking in and hope you enjoy!
> 
> P.S. Happy New Year!!

_ “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” _

Armin’s voice sounds so incredibly cold, so  _ frigid _ , that even he himself shivers slightly at it. He’s outside in the middle of the night, however, with snow filling up his boots and a puffy jacket wrapped around his body, so it could be easily passed off as an effect of the weather. Of course, he also dons the Survey Corps cape, a necessity when interacting with the enemy. Jean had once said that Armin  _ “exuded authority and intimidation” _ , and that’s exactly the type of aura he was going for when he agreed to this meeting.

The emerald bolo tie sits tight around his neck, light in weight yet heavy with meaning. Whereas Erwin and Hange naturally had that leader-like aura, Armin has always created the image for himself, a sheep dressed in wolf’s clothing.

Though certainly with his past actions, Armin supposes it would be far too kind, far too gracious of himself, to be considered a  _ sheep _ .

Perhaps the term  _ monster  _ would be far more appropriate.

Sometimes, late at night, when his bed is far too empty and cold, void of a person whose body radiated heat like fire and hands that would always tangle themselves in Armin’s long, blond hair, he’d fiddle with the emerald tie. Flip it around with his fingers, feel how smooth the surface was with the pads of his thumbs.

Sometimes, Armin pulled the tie around his neck tightly. So tight his face turned blue. So tight only choked gasps and coughs were able to escape his mouth. So tight his neck veins began to pop, all thick and green and vibrant against the pale pallor of his skin. So similar to a noose being roped around his neck, that he pretended that it was a noose instead, if only to temporarily allude himself that this was the proper punishment deigned by the world, an execution, rather than a selfish plea to just  _ die _ .

Every morning after he woke up, the rush of disappointment and relief that filled him is far too confusing to dwell upon. He brushed aside Mikasa’s concerns and worried eyes about the ugly, violet-red marks that have dug deep into the sides of his neck, though he knew it won’t be long until an intervention is staged, so hopefully, he’d have either:

1.) Died by then. 

Or 

2.) Stopped by then.

Now if you were to have truly asked Armin, he’d probably say that Option One would be the more likely outcome- if it were all up to him, of course.

However it isn’t, and even now, after the fighting and after the war and after the rumbling, he still cannot afford to be so selfish.

So he stands there, in the dead of a freezing, winter night, outside the door of a wooden shack deep in the woods beyond Wall Maria in his Survey Corps uniform and a burning hot lantern in his hands, praying to any entity that listens that the person residing there would  _ not  _ open the door.

He hears the whining creaks of the hinges, the soft hitch of a breath, and the quiet, strangled sound that escapes the other’s throat.

All Armin wants to do is run. Run away from the cold, run away from the snow, run away from the burdens and the ruins and the faces of despair and agony. He wants to run away from  _ him _ , who, even after three years of no contact, still allows Armin to wordlessly enter his home with no malice or resentment held in those jaded, emerald eyes that Armin has only dared to see in his mind- his nightmares, dreams, and memories.

Eren Jaeger, Armin Arlert’s once best friend.

Eren Jaeger, Armin Arlert’s once comrade in arms.

Eren Jaeger, Armin Arlert’s once love of his life.

Eren Jaeger, holder of the Attack, Founding, and Warhammer Titans.

Eren Jaeger, Eldia’s symbol of freedom.

Eren Jaeger, slave to no one.

The door closes behind him, and Armin musters the strength to meet Eren, face-to-face.

***

_ Correction: _

Eren Jaeger….is a slave to no one but Armin Arlert, who at age seven, entrapped him in a cage made of glimmering ocean eyes and promises of  _ flaming waters, lands made of ice, fields of sand spread wide, and  _ **_freedom_ ** .

_ *** _

There’s a mug of steaming hot chamomile tea in front of Armin, the floral scent lightly invading his senses. It remains untouched, however, and Armin finds himself unable to look away, for the fear of meeting Eren’s eyes still lingers in his heart. The heat it radiates is comforting, and his fingers itch to wrap around the handle. 

Eren, oddly enough, is the one to start the conversation. Armin is about to reach out and finally grab the cup when Eren asks, softly:

“Why now?”

Armin freezes mid-way. Two words. That’s all it was, yet the air feels so incredibly dangerous. Eren sits across from him, his long hair tied up in a loose bun with some strands falling out. Despite the cold, he merely wears a white shirt with a low neckline and a black jacket over it.

“Huh?” Armin manages to say.

_ So much for trying to look authoritative and intimidating. _

Eren leans over, resting his elbows on his knees and holding his hands together. “I said: Why now?”

“Because I felt like it,” Armin says simply. 

Eren scoffs. “Because _you felt like it?_ What, did you suddenly _miss_ your best friend after three years of no contact? No visits, no letters, not even a single peep from Mikasa and Jean, Armin. Not a _fucking_ peep.”

Is-is  _ Eren _ the one actually getting angry here? Armin couldn’t believe it. 

Actually, scratch that- he  _ could _ believe it. Has done so for the past twenty-or-so years of his life and will continue to do so until he dies.

“Well, unlike Jean and Mikasa, I’m a lot more busy than they are.” It was true, to a certain extent. He was indeed busy being the 15th Commander of the Survey Corps and Head Advisor to the Queen of Paradis. Between traveling to different countries, signing peace treaties, and forming voyages, he certainly  _ was _ busy.

But Armin knew that he had enough time to spare these past three years to pay a visit to Eren. It was just that he chose not to. And judging by the look on Eren’s face, it seems that he knew so as well.

Eren snorts. “Sure you were.”

Silence drapes the room, and it’s so heavy, Armin could feel it on his shoulders. It suffocates him, cuts across his throat tightly, similar to the feeling of stringing the tie around his neck. Sickeningly enough, it provides some sort of sweet relief to Armin, because  _ this _ wasn’t foreign to him.  _ This  _ wasn’t a stranger.

Unlike Eren Jaeger, who, once upon a time, was a book only Armin could read.

Armin sighs. “Well, I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Eren regards him carefully, before letting out a heavy sigh himself. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess you are. How have you been?”

“Good. Fine. I’ve been doing alright.” He hasn’t. He  _ really _ hasn’t, but he’s not going to dump all of his emotional baggage right onto Eren’s front door, not when some of it comes from him. “How about you?”

“I’m living as I can. Being limited to only this area can be rather boring, but at least there are visitors.” Eren doesn’t look him in the eye. “Mikasa visits often. Jean sometimes joins her as well, surprisingly enough.”

Armin sips his tea considerably. “Hmm...well I would hope so, considering that he’s planning on proposing soon.”

Eren’s head snaps up in surprise, his eyes wide. His lips twitch upwards before settling into a small smile. There’s a light in them that brings a nostalgic pang to Armin’s heart. He hasn’t seen Eren like this in  _ god knows how long _ .

“No way...you’re shitting me, right Armin? ‘Cause, there’s no way in  _ hell _ that  _ horseface _ actually got the guts to propose to Mikasa, right?” And Eren  _ laughs _ . He  _ fucking  _ laughs and it rings warning bells in Armin’s mind, as if to tell him  _ don’t fall, don’t slip back in, you can’t get out this time. _ It’s nothing like the painful, psychotic laugh Armin once heard in the Paths, full of raw, tender emotions and crushed hopes.

For the briefest moment, a bubble is formed around them, and Armin imagines that they’re still children playing near the forests of Shiganshina and reading Armin’s storybook near the canal side.

Eren looks straight into Armin’s eyes, and Armin sees forest greens under the afternoon sun, sees the emerald auroras in the night sky, sees  _ him, him, and only him. _

All his life, Armin’s always had tunnel vision when Eren comes in his line of sight, and it’s relieving, yet terrifying, to know that it still remains the same even now.

Armin realizes he’s been staring for far too long, something that wouldn’t be considered normal even between best friends. The smile on Eren’s lips has effectively died out, and instead, there's a thoughtful expression on his face, as though he could see through Armin like glass.

A shiver races down his spine. What Eren was to Armin, Armin was not to Eren. Not ever before, definitely not now. Armin is sure in his belief that Eren never wanted to trace patterns across  _ his _ back, never wanted to place his hands on  _ his  _ waist, never wanted to brush his lips against  _ his  _ collarbone, never wondered how the feel of his mouth would be against  _ his  _ neck.

Eren never wanted Armin the way Armin wanted Eren, all those years ago.

That had become increasingly apparent when he started the rumbling.

Eren lets out a mirthless chuckle, looking away. “Well, I’m sure that there’s no way Mikasa is going to say no. After all, this is what she’s always wanted. A family. A normal life. A sense of domestic peace. It’s a shame, really.”

_...What? _

“What is?”

“That I won’t be able to go to the wedding.”

And though Eren hasn’t even touched him, let alone  _ hurt  _ him, Armin feels as though someone sucker-punched him right in the stomach, all the air knocked right out of him. Armin stands up, suddenly, the tea in his hands gone cold and the chair clattering behind him as it falls on the floor.

“I think I’ve overstayed my time here.” Armin is shaking, and it’s not from the cold. “I’ll see if I can visit again soon.”

He won’t do that, actually. Armin never wants to come here again. 

It feels like a timer has been set off in his chest and soon he’s about to blow up.

He’s about to make his way to the front door when a tight grip encircles his wrist. “Why, Armin? Why leave so soon? Can’t  _ wait _ to get away from your best friend?”

“Eren, let me go.  _ Now _ .” Armin says dangerously.

“Why?” The grip becomes tighter, and Eren tugs on Armin’s wrist, bringing their chests together. “Why can’t I even go to my own family’s wedding? Haven’t I repented enough? Haven’t I  _ slaved  _ away for far too long?”

“You almost committed complete  _ genocide _ !” Armin hisses, ripping his hand free from Eren’s. “Did you just  _ conveniently  _ forget that you’re the world’s number one enemy?! If anyone outside the government finds out that you’re even alive, Paradis is  _ doomed _ . All the hard work we’ve done, Mikasa’s, Historia’s, Jean’s, Connie’s, even mine....all of it would go to waste! Is this what you killed millions of people for, Eren? Only for Paradis to be destroyed without any Titans to help save it this time?”

Armin pants heavily, chest rising up and down with effort. He’s only been here for less than ten minutes, and Eren,  _ damn him, _ has managed not only to get under his skin, but also uncorked that bottle of feelings he’s been fighting for so long to suppress. “So tell me Eren, is that what you want? For all of Paradis to be blown up to pieces all because some important figure, some general of a country’s army, saw a lurking, hooded figure near the wedding venue of the two most appraised heroes of the world that resembled the  _ infamous  _ Eren Jaeger?”

A beat of silence passes. Then two. Armin is just about to give up waiting for an answer, is just about to dash right out that  _ fucking  _ door in hope of never seeing Eren Jaeger in his life again, when Eren speaks.

“You know Armin, you’re rather cruel.”

Armin looks up, slowly, carefully, before red fills his vision and suddenly, he finds himself fisting the collar of Eren’s jacket, pushing him against the wall harshly. 

“ _ I’m  _ cruel?  _ Me? _ ” Armin wants to scream, to spit right into Eren’s face and stomp on him as though he were the scum of the earth. “ _ I’m _ not the one who tried to kill everyone, Eren. That was  _ you. _ ”

Eren ignores him, emerald eyes no longer shining, and yet they glint dangerously. Eren leans downwards, brushing the shell of Armin’s ear with his lips. Armin’s eyes widen.

“It’s nothing new. I’ve always known that you’ve had this insidious, hatred filled side of you. Always accepted you regardless.” His breath is hot against Armin’s skin, and it causes goosebumps to erupt alongside his arms. “However, I never thought that you would use it against me. But then again, I never predicted any of this to happen.”

Armin grits his teeth. “Of course you didn’t. There were always other options, Eren. You just decided to seal everyone's fate when you took matters into your own hands.”

“And isn’t that what you’re doing right now as well? Or am I being presumptuous, Armin?” Eren grabs Armin’s shoulders from behind and pulls him close. So close that the tips of their noses touch. So close that Armin can feel the rhythm of Eren’s heartbeat through his thin shirt.

_ Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. _

“ _ You _ were the one who decided I should live. As commander of the Survey Corps,  _ you  _ had that authority. It was also  _ you _ who decided that I should live away from the rest of humanity, that only a select group of people, including yourself, can come and visit me. To keep me trapped in one area so I’m easier to control, like  _ cattle _ .  _ You _ were the one who took on the trouble to keep me alive, though it would’ve been much easier if I were dead, now wouldn’t it?”

Armin’s mind felt hazy. All he wanted was for Eren to shut up. So that’s exactly what he tells him. “Eren,  _ shut the fuck up _ .”

Eren, however, pretends he doesn’t hear him, and continues on. “Is that what you dream of? Do you dream about killing me yourself? Put your hands around my throat and squeeze it until all the life drains out of me? Do you toss and turn late at night with regret in your heart, thinking  _ why you just didn’t kill me when you had the chance?” _ _  
  
_

Armin is fuming, the red from before still not cleared out and he can envision himself now, pummeling his fist right into Eren’s face just like that one time before in the restaurant when Eren had dared to say he hated Mikasa.

He’s never wanted to kill Eren before. Never. Not even once throughout his entire life. Until now. Now the idea is far more entertaining than it should be, and Armin is dwelling on the thought longer than he should.

“Eren, seriously  _ stop _ ,” Armin’s voice sounds hoarse. “Stop it now before I do anything I might regret-”

Eren hums thoughtfully. “Though when I think about it, it wouldn’t be a bad way to go, wouldn't it? Dying at the hands of your best friend-”

Armin’s grip on Eren’s collar becomes tighter. His knuckles turn white with strain.

Just what the fuck is he doing right now? Armin could end his own misery right now, let go of Eren and walk right out that door, forget (or at least try to forget) this encounter and never hear his voice again. 

But Armin can’t. He makes the mistake of looking into Eren’s eyes and he is paralyzed, his feet glued to the floor. His whole world turns green because all he can see is the way Eren’s eyes burn into him, setting his soul aflame. 

“Why are you visiting me now, Armin?” Eren’s voice cracks, and the sound is like broken glass to Armin’s ears. “Suddenly, after three years, you drop out of the blue, asking me  _ what the fuck I think I’m doing _ , when you’re the one who decided to meet me.”

“Eren-”

“Tell me, Armin. Do you take me for a  _ fool? _ Perhaps I’ve never been smart in the same way you always have been, but I certainly am not stupid. Do you know how much I would long to see you? Would wonder  _ ‘so when is Armin coming to visit me?’ _ only to realize that he never will? That  _ you _ never will?” Eren’s voice rose higher and louder. From this closeup, Armin could see tears well up in his eyes, probably from frustration. “You don’t think I notice the pitiful looks Mikasa and Jean give me whenever I ask about you? That they say the same  _ fucking _ excuse as you do? That you’ve been  _ busy _ traveling, especially to Marley?”

A sob catches in the back of Armin’s throat. Something wet rolls down his face, and with startling clarity, he realizes that he is crying. 

“Why have you been traveling to Marley so often Armin?" His voice becomes bitter, and Armin struggles to swallow, "I can’t imagine that you would have any more business there than you would have in any other country? Is there something there that keeps you busy? Or rather  _ someone?” _

Armin’s face twists up indignantly, nostrils flaring. “You need to  _ shut the fuck up _ . You don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“But I do, don’t I?” Eren’s eyes glow, maniacally so. “How  _ is _ Annie, by the way? Haven’t heard much about her from everyone else, but I expect that I’ll hear a lot more from you.”

Armin lets go of Eren’s shirt and stumbles back. He inhales sharply. “I’m leaving. I’ve had enough of putting up with your bullshit.” 

And he’s walking away, stomping towards the door. He’ll thank himself in the morning, once he leaves. He’ll thank himself for walking away from Eren Jaeger instead of chasing after him, like he always does.

“Do you love her? Annie?”

Armin stops. His mind feels numb, empty, making him rely on his wildly beating heart instead.

_ You foolish boy. You foolish, foolish boy _ .

“No. I don’t.” Armin says shortly.

“Ah...well, I never pegged you for that type of person, Armin.” His body turns stiff. “After all, I would’ve thought you were one for  _ commitment _ .” It’s a sharp sting, meant to hurt him, meant to make Armin rise to the bait and get angry all over again.

“So are you?”

“Am I what?” Armin spits out, irritated enough with Eren’s vague meanings. He still doesn’t know why he’s standing there, so close to escaping, tolerating Eren’s useless questions and even going above and beyond to answer them.

“Are you sleeping with her?”   
  


Ah. There it is. There’s that final spark, the final match setting the flame. Whatever composure Armin clung onto vanishes, and he finds himself turning on his heel, marching away from the door and his chance of escape.

“Whoever I sleep with is  _ none _ of your business.” Armin jabs a finger to Eren’s chest, pushing him back a few steps. There’s  _ still _ that goddamn irritating smirk on his lips, as though he’s won a prize. “I can sleep with anyone I want to, and it’d still be none of your business.” Another jab. “I can sleep with the whole of  _ fucking  _ Marley, if I chose to, and it still-” 

_ Jab.  _

“-wouldn’t-” 

_ Jab _ . 

“-be-” 

_ Jab.  _

“-your-” 

_ Jab.  _

“-fucking-” 

_ Jab.  _

“-business.”

Eren is pushed back far enough that he falls onto the couch, sitting there with his hair now completely out of his bun and hanging loosely down his shoulders. Armin stands above him, between his legs.

Armin breathes in deeply. “Not anymore. You lost that right a long time ago.”

“So that’s assuming I even had it in the first place.”

Armin pauses. “What?”

The smirk on Eren’s mouth grows wider, and the itch to punch it off his face is tempting. “At one point in time, I had the right to question who you were with. Romantically, sexually, whatever it was,  _ I  _ had that right.”

“At one point in time, you were my best friend.”

“Oh, but mere  _ best friends _ don’t really have that right, do they? I’d say that sort of privilege belongs to  _ lovers _ .”

All the anger washes out of Armin’s body, filled instead with dreadful horror. He feels his blood run cold at Eren’s accusation, feels it all drain out until his skin is as white as snow. 

“Armin,” Eren leans forward, wrapping an arm around his waist, settling his hand on the small of his back. “Do you love me?” He ask, almost tauntingly

_ I do. _

“No.”

The grips become tighter. “Tell me the truth. Do you love me?”

_ I do. _

Armin glares hard. “No, I don’t.”

And Eren brings him close. Armin is practically sitting on top of Eren’s lap and his arms instinctively wrap around his neck. “Last chance, Armin.  _ Do you love me?”  _

Warmth radiates from his body, from his breath, from the way he holds Armin firmly, as if he doesn’t want to let him go. Armin is so  _ cold _ . He has been cold for far too long now, been frozen in crystalline ice for the longest time now. How Armin  _ craves  _ for warmth, the type only Eren can provide. Oh, how he  _ craves  _ for Eren. For how  _ long _ he has craved for him and only him. 

He wonders, would it be okay if he succumbed to his desires now? He’s done a lot for this world, hasn’t he? He’s saved it on numerous occasions. He’s held peace between opposing forces far too many times.

He looks down at Eren, who, shockingly, looks so open, so  _ vulnerable _ that Armin can’t help but lower down his walls himself.

He wonders if the world would forgive him for his next actions.

_ No, I don’t. _

_ I don’t love you. _

_ I stopped loving you. _

_ I shouldn’t love you. _

_ I hate you, Eren Jaeger. _

“ I don’t love you, Eren.” He whispers in the quietness of the cabin. “What I feel for you is more than love. It’s an obsession. An addiction. I wake up and I think of you. I fall asleep and I think of you. I dream and I think of you. It’s you. It’s always been you. To call this love would be a lie. I don’t love you .” Eren stiffens under him. He cups Eren’s face with his hands, rubs a thumb up and down his cheekbone. “I  _ hate  _ that you make me feel this way” He says it softly, as if tending to a wounded animal. 

Eren places a careful hand behind Armin’s neck. “I knew you were cruel.”

Armin jerks back violently, but Eren’s hand keeps him steadily in place. 

“What-?”

“I knew you were cruel,” Eren repeats. “For keeping this away from me for so,  _ so  _ long.” He throws his head back and sighs. “We were both so dumb, so oblivious to the manner of our relationship. I wonder…” Eren pauses, looking up at Armin. “I wonder if things would’ve been different, had we been more honest with ourselves.”

Armin wonders that too. “It’s not a good time to dwell upon wonderings. There never is.” 

Eren smiles sadly. “Armin. Though I don't deserve it, do you think you can be kind to me? Just for one night, put your cruelty away and treat me with kindness.” He drags a finger down Armin’s throat, back and forth his clavicle, and then brings it back up just under Armin’s chin, tilting his head back ever so slightly.

He dips his head down, nuzzling Armin’s neck with his nose.

“Please be kind to me, Armin. The way you once were.” 

Armin grants him his kindness, giving it all to Eren in the form of searing kisses against his mouth, small pecks along the side of his face, hands running up and down the length of his back as Armin’s legs wrap around Eren’s waist, giving him no room to escape. He allows himself to indulge in the rough way Eren bites his neck, nibbling on the skin until it flushes red. He allows himself to enjoy the shivers of pleasure racing down his spine with every swipe of a tongue against his lips and every breathy chuckle into his ear. He allows himself to break down his walls completely, and let his hands travel to near dangerous places, to go into rapture for the sparks of electricity dancing alongside his hips every time Eren brushes his fingers in small, meaningless patterns, mindlessly going lower and lower and  _ lower- _

Somewhere down the line, they’re bare skin against bare skin, muscle against muscle, heat against warmth. Armin’s clothes are strewn around somewhere on the floor, and Eren is stripped of everything but his scratchy wool trousers. He picks Armin up by his thighs, gripping them harshly, and carries him towards the bedroom, without ever breaking their kiss. 

Behind closed doors, Armin allows himself to give Eren all the kindness in the world, to give and take without guilt, without the world’s burden on his shoulders. Armin loves and loves and  _ loves  _ with a fervor unknown to mankind, one that could only be lit up by Eren himself. He shows just  _ how  _ kind he is to Eren Jaeger,  _ how much _ he loves him so.

For one night, Armin allows himself to be  _ free _ , because he knows that this won’t ever happen again.

***

_ “The only thing we're allowed to believe is that we won't regret the choice we made.” _

***

When morning comes, Armin is warm.

Which is strange, considering his bed is never warm.

His eyes snap open, and he sits up so quickly it’s as though he’s been struck by lightning. The sun rays bleed through the cotton white curtains, spilling light onto the bedroom walls and sheets. Armin’s body is aching all over and there’s a mirror right across from him, just  _ showing  _ what had occurred last night. 

Armin’s blonde hair is askew, strands sticking up in odd directions as though it had been pulled. Red and violet hues bloom like flowers against his neck, lining up along his collarbone, trailing down deeper and deeper until Armin could feel for himself the bite marks on his inner thighs. He feels sticky with sweat, yet the sunlight makes his skin glisten. 

With an alarming coherence, Armin notices that he’s  _ fucking glowing _ . Last night...well last night might’ve been one of the best nights he’s ever had. To think that Eren had felt the same all these years….to think of all the time they had wasted…

Only to waste them once more, because  _ this?  _ It could never work.

He stumbles quietly out of the bed as possible, picking up his clothes from the floor and haphazardly putting them on. Eren lays on the bed, sleeping peacefully, like an angel. Regret pangs Armin squarely in the chest, and suddenly, it's hard to breathe. Eren’s bronze skin glimmers under the light, and his hair is splayed out on the pillows. His lashes cast shades on his skin, long and curled. In a way, Armin is grateful Eren is asleep because he wouldn’t trust himself had he been awake, with his green eyes looking at Armin in wonder, asking him to stay-

Armin shakes his head. Strange thoughts,  _ unwanted  _ thoughts were starting to get to him. He needed to leave.  _ Now. _

So he does. Armin leaves Eren’s bedroom and dashes straight out the front door, this time recklessly and without care for the other’s sleep. He trips over a piece of loose flooring in the process but otherwise manages to make it out without any harm done. Physically, that is. 

Emotionally? Who knows. Fact of the matter is that he’s been scarred his entire life. One night won’t change that.

Armin slams the door behind him as he leaves and jumps straight onto his horse. With a flick of the reins, he’s galloping across green hillsides and slushy snow at full speed.

He’s about midway through his journey when he starts to tremble. Suddenly, out of nowhere, tears glide down his face like waterfalls, and a wretched, horrible scream rips from his throat. The wind does some good in blocking his ears of his own cries, but he can still hear it, still hear how blood-curdling it is. 

He cries and wails like a banshee because  _ hasn’t he done enough for this world? Hasn’t he been punished for far too long? Why...why can’t he have just this one thing?! _

The stables are empty by the time he comes back. Assumably, the other senior officers of the Survey Corps are mentoring the new trainees. He’s just about finished putting his stuff away and is about to head to his room as quickly as possible when he hears footsteps behind him.

“Armin?” A voice asks, softly, yet sternly. “Armin. Where have you been all night yesterday? I was going to start asking around for you when I saw-” Armin turns around, meeting Mikasa face to face. 

It only takes one glance at him, from the blotchy red face to the dried tears tracks, to the rumpled clothes and barely concealed marks against his neck, for Mikasa to understand the situation.

“Oh,” she says. Then she’s moving forward and holding Armin in her arms. “You met him.”

Armin croaks out weakly. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

They stand there, embracing each other. Mikasa runs her hand up and down Armin’s back, silently asking him  _ are you ok?  _

Armin merely grips onto her tighter because he knows that  _ she  _ knows the answer already: That he is  _ not  _ ok, hasn’t been so for years.

It’s only when Armin feels something wet on the back of his shirt that he realizes that Mikasa is crying. She says something, but her words are muffled by his cape.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat?” Armin asks gently.

Mikasa sniffs. “I was just wishing for things to go back to normal. I think I might give  _ anything  _ for it to be just the three of us again.”

Armin laughs dryly. “Even Jean?”

Mikasa blushes. “Maybe….maybe not  _ everything _ . But I think right now, at this moment? Then it’s debatable.” She turns to him. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Would you give up your dream of seeing the ocean so that things could go back to normal?”

Armin would be taken aback by the question if only he wasn’t so shocked by the immediate answer his mind provided him.

“Maybe….” He says instead. “But what is  _ normal _ anyway? Since when have we,” he gestures to themselves, “been  _ normal? _ Perhaps...perhaps this is the best possible outcome. It’s not like we have the ability to see the future, right?”

Mikasa has an unreadable expression on her face, though it seems as though she is trying to discern the truth in Armin’s words. Finally, she sighs. “Yes, perhaps this is the best we have.” She stands up, dusting off her pants, and lends out a helping hand. “Now come back home to us Armin. We’re here.”

Armin takes her hand and stands up as well, shooting her a grateful look from the side. “Yes, we are. Thank you for being there.”

“Mmh.”

As they walk back to the main house together, Armin can’t help but wonder about Mikasa’s question.

_ “Would you give up your dream of seeing the ocean so that things could go back to normal?” _

If it meant never knowing humanity lived beyond the walls? If it meant that the millions of people who died would come back to life? If it meant being able to talk to Eren, stay with Eren,  _ be  _ with Eren in a normal manner?

Armin remembers his answer.

_ In a heartbeat _ .

***

_ “The world is merciless, and it's also very beautiful.” _

  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> AAAAAND THAT'S IT FOR NOW FOLKS!!
> 
> Thank you all so much to whoever read this fic. Truly, I am grateful for all of you.
> 
> Secondly, I would like to thank kobra (@/kobraboii on twt), myra (@/MyraOiyama), and mars (@/sunseekcr) for beta-ing this fic. Without you guys, I truly don't know what I would've done...perhaps not have even published this at all. Every comment you guys made pushed this fic to further heights and it has been changed for the better!
> 
> I am planning on publishing some more fics in relation to this one, basically a series. I'm not sure when I'll be able to drop them, but they will come eventually one day...
> 
> Follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/clysmicthoughts) for more eremin content and other aot crack posts!


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